The End
by Montag451
Summary: With a warning on impending doom, can a group of prepared people survive the end? UPDATED!
1. Chapter 1

Dean Cooper's schedule was hectic. He worked a typical 9-5 job and was taking classes at the local community college. At 24, he was quite farther along in his life plans than most of his friends, many of whom were still bar hopping. Married a year earlier, he had dated his wife for 7 years, starting in their senior year in high school. Dean was a big man, which was strikingly contrasting with his petite wife. At 6'5" and 250lbs, he towered over his 5'4" 100lbs spouse.

Working in sales wasn't exactly his dream job, but he was paid well, and it allowed him to buy a house with Sara his wife, and to pay for his hobbies, one of which was firearms. This hobby wasn't exactly a big hit among the corporate types, so he had to keep his love for firearms hidden while at work. He did manage to find a few people in the office that shared his passion. One, Ron Packard, was a retired FBI agent, and only a few months from retirement at his communications job. It was Ron that had brought Dean shooting for the first time by taking him out on his property and showing him how to shoot. Dean was a natural. He became quite proficient, and had even built a nice collection of firearms.

It was a Friday afternoon when Ron approached the sales department rather quickly. Dean noted a look of excitement in his eyes. Whispering so only Dean could hear, Ron asked to speak with him privately, and quickly moved towards Dean' office with him in tow.

"What's going on Ron, you ok?"

"Not really, but before I begin, you have to keep this quiet. If this gets out, it will be a lot worse for everyone, ok?" Dean nodded, a bit bewildered. "Ok, well you know that I used to work for the FBI, and I still have a few friends that work there. They keep me up to date on things that might be of interest, like what I'm about to tell you. I know a guy that has top secret clearance. He told me about a terrorist group that has stolen a bio weapon. This weapon is extremely dangerous. It was actually in the testing stage when they stole it. Anyway, it's supposed to reanimate the dead. I know how it sounds, zombies right?" Dean continued to stare with a blank look on his face, waiting for Ron to crack a smile. It never came. "Well, if that weren't enough, it appears that they stole enough to infect most of the western countries. There have been rumors that they plan to attack on Monday, in every major city. Including this one. Now, I am going to spend this weekend getting supplies, food, some ammo and tools. I suggest you do the same." With that, Ron hurried out of the office before Dean could respond.

"Was he serious?" Dean thought with a whisper. He knew that Ron wasn't the type to joke about something like this, and he had never seen him so visibly shaken. But zombies?

The rest of the day was a blur. He wasn't able to concentrate on his work, and spent most of him time trying to decide if Ron was just messing with him. By the end of the day, he came to the conclusion that he was telling the truth. He would have come by to tell him it was a joke by now, and he was too serious when he told him.  
Now that it set in that there was a threat of a... a zombie attack, Dean knew he needed a plan. He drove home thinking about the things that he needed to do. Food, ammo, water; should he tell friends and family, buy a generator? He needed to talk with his wife. What would she think? Probably that he'd lost his mind. He pulled into his driveway, and automatically noted that living in a neighborhood wasn't the best tactical location to be in when/if a zombie attack happened. However, a weekend was not enough time to move, so they would just have to get by with their current home. It was the only neighborhood within 5 miles, and besides the grocery store, there wasn't much around anyway. By the time he unlocked the front door, he had convinced himself that they were in a pretty good area if anything did happen.

His wife was busy making dinner. He admired that after a long day of teaching children, she still had enough energy to make a delicious meal. Not wanting to waste any time, he made a bee line to the kitchen, greeted his wife, and proceeded to tell her about his conversation with Ron. It took him well into dinner, but he finally convinced her that he indeed was serious, and that they really did need to prepare. After dinner, she agreed to clean up while he took inventory of what they had, so they could accurately come up with what they needed to buy. She rationalized that worse case, they didn't have to buy canned food, ammo, or bottled water for a long time if nothing did happen.

After cleaning she sat down with Dean to find out exactly what he had in mind. He had a note pad and pen, and was trying to calculate exactly how much everything would cost.

"Ok, here's how I see it. We have a few boxes of noodles, some cans of sauce, quite a few cans of vegetables and canned fruit, almost no bottled water, a few cans of soup and some ramen, and a couple of cases soda. For weapons, we have 4 handguns, 3 that use 9mm and 1 that use .22. We have the two AR-15's that we built, both that use .223, and the two .22's that we bought a few years back. Finally, we have two shotguns, both 12 gauge. Now, for ammo, we have 200 rounds of 9mm, 500 .22, only 50 rounds of the .223, and 20 12 gauge."

"So, how much more do you want to buy?" she replied.

"Well, we need a lot more food and water, so we need to go to the store. I'm thinking we should go to Sam's club and stock up on the food. Buying it in bulk would be easier. For the ammo, I'd like to have a lot more. Ammo prices are going up, so even if nothing does happen, we would be saving money in the long run. I can get 1000 rounds of 9mm, 1500 .22, another 1000 rounds of .223, plus some more magazines for the AR's. And maybe a few more boxes of 12 gauge. I have some wood in the garage, so if we need to board up the windows, we can. Oh, and I almost forgot, we might need a way to cook the food, so I think we should fill those empty propane tanks, and get some more tanks for our camping stoves."

"Well, how much do you think all of this will cost. We've done a good job saving money, I'd hate to spend it all in one weekend. We could probably spend a couple thousand, but any more than that would be way too much. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I know how this all sounds, but I'm telling you Sara, I've never seen him so worked up over something." Jim felt he had to plead his case again.

"Alright, well, I guess there's no harm in buying this stuff. But what do we do about our friends? What about my brother and your sister? Do we say anything? I mean, even if we did, would they even believe us?"

Dean was still undecided. He wanted to warn his friends and his sister, but what if nothing happened. They discussed it into the night, and fell asleep after deciding to make a decision in the morning.

Saturday morning was a busy morning. When Dean woke up, he immediately began to put their plan into action. By 7am, he had cleaned out his gun safe, and organized it. He had also piled all of the canned goods onto the kitchen table, organized them into meat, vegetables, fruit, sauces, and soups. With that, he created a shopping list for their trip to Sam's club. When he had completed this list, he went into the garage and started to go through their hiking gear. Both of them loved to go hiking, spending many nights under the stars.

While he was in the middle of emptying out their hiking packs when Sara walked into the garage, showered and dressed.

"You need any help" she asked energetically.

"Sure, I am just looking through our packs to see if we need to update anything in here. I've already gone over the food we have in the house, and all of my ammo and guns are organized too."

Dean moved over and handed Sara's pack to her. She opened it and began to remove the contents.

"So, have you thought about whether or not we are going to tell anyone?"

Dean looked into her eyes to answer. "Yeah, I have. Look, as severe as this situation could be, we really don't have any proof besides what Ron told me. Now, if for some reason nothing happens, we are out some money, but it's not that big of a deal. However, if we try to warn our friends, and nothing happens, well..." He trailed off, knowing that she understood.

"But we can't just not do anything for them." Sara protested.

"Honey, I know that. I was thinking we could get more supplies than we need. That way, we can have supplies if anyone comes here. Plus, I have my old police scanner, we can monitor that, and at the first sign of trouble, we will call everyone we know, and either pick them up, or have them meet us here. Sound ok?"

"Thanks, that's fine." Sara loved the fact that they were able to agree on just about everything. When they couldn't, they were at least able to compromise. They continued to go over their packs and the rest of the camping gear for another hour. After taking care of a few more things, they were ready to go to Sam's Club. They decided to take Sara's SUV due to the carrying capacity compared to Dean' sedan.

The store was pretty busy. It was usually pretty packed on the weekends, so this was no surprise to either. They each grabbed a cart, and went isle by isle picking out canned foods and bottled water. By the time they were finished, they could barely move their carts. They got strange looks from the cashier, but paid for the food and left. They drove home in silence. They unloaded the vehicle, and set back out to the sporting goods store.

As they entered the store, Dean gave Sara a list of supplies that she was to pick up, and they would meet in the firearms section. This is right where he was headed. He grabbed a cart, and started to load up on the ammo they needed. He was excited to see they had a sale on ammo, and with the amount he was buying, he would save quite a bit of money. After getting the ammo, he made his way over to the counter to ask about getting some AR15 magazines. The salesman stated that they had them available for $15. They already had 3 for each gun, so he decided to buy two more for each. The whole process had taken less time than he had expected, so he decided to go check out the hunting rifles.

Sara was almost done with her list. She had been at it for thirty minutes, and decided to go over the list one more time. "Ok, I got the camping stove fuel, the socks, gloves, binoculars, flashlights, spare batteries, two black balaclavas... whatever those are for." She didn't understand why her husband wanted these, but he insisted on getting them. Now, all she needed to find was a good first aid kit, some spare filters for their water filter, and they were done. After a few more minutes of searching, she found what she was looking for, and headed for the firearms section. She walked up to Dean and saw him filing out some paperwork.

"What are you doing? Are they making your fill that out for the ammo?

"No." Dean replied. "Actually, I'm getting a heck of a deal on this hunting rifle" Dean nodded toward a rifle sitting on the counter. After filling out the paperwork, and getting a few boxes of ammo for the rifle, they set out toward the registers.

The rest of the day was spent organizing the items they bought. By the time they were done, both were exhausted. After eating a nice dinner, they went to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a relaxing day. The plan was to keep an eye on the news, and spend some quality time together. Dean was especially excited about that part.

Opening his eyes slowly against the burning sun, he reached his arm over to the other side of the bed, disappointed in the fact that his wife was already awake. He sat up and stretched. Taking a deep breath, he noticed the delicious smell of bacon and eggs. This was more than enough to make him hop out of bed. Walking into the kitchen, he stepped behind his wife, who was too busy cooking to notice him, and kissed her neck. She jumped in surprise and almost threw breakfast all over the kitchen. She playfully slapped her husband and continued to cook the meal.

"So,anything on the news yet?"

"I haven't checked, I just woke up and thought I would make you breakfast in bed. Thanks for ruining that by the way." She smirked.

"No problem. I'm going to turn on the tv." He kissed his wife on the forehead and went to the living room in search of the remote. Finding it, he turned on CNN. A few minutes later, Sara joined him with two plates of food.  
"Anything?" She asked.

"Nope, just about the war in Iraq. I'll try another station." He changed the channel to Fox News. "Same thing here." He reported after a few minutes.

After breakfast he cleaned up while she took a bath. After washing the dishes and straitening up the kitchen, he joined her in the bath. Once again he surprised her, but this time he was met with a smirk and an embrace.

By noon, they were dressed and ready for the day. Dean had a few more things he wanted to pick up at the store, and Sara agreed to clean the house while he was gone. So after kissing his wife goodbye, he grabbed his pistol, pulled his shirt down over it, and left. After getting his permit to carry, Dean never left the house without being armed. He got to the store, and picked up some cleaning supplies, some personal hygiene products, and a few 5 gallon jugs of water. Finally, as he was leaving, he exchanged the propane bottles with new ones and drove back home.

He greeted his wife with a kiss, and put the newly purchased items away. The rest of the day was spent cleaning the house, and lounging around watching the news. They weren't shocked that the news hadn't mentioned anything, but for different reasons. Dean figured the government was keeping tight lipped due to not wanting to cause a panic. And those that were fortunate enough to know were doing the same. He couldn't even imagine what it would have been like if everyone in America new what was going to happen. He knew that he wouldn't have been able to get the supplies they needed once the public found out. Sara on the other hand had a different outlook. She was a little skeptical of the whole idea. In fact, the only reason she went along with it is because Dean had seemed pretty freaked out. More than she had ever seen. For her, this was going to be something they could laugh about years down the road. So, the day went on, the house was cleaned, and once again inventory was taken. As night came, there was still no news about the stolen weapon or any terrorist attack. Just before midnight, they both went to bed.

They woke up early so they could call in sick, and while Sara was able to get back to sleep, Dean was wide awake. He started a cup of coffee, and turned on the TV. For a few hours, he scanned both local and news, and occasionally logged on to the computer to check the news. By 8 am, Sara was awake.

"Nothing yet?" she asked.

"Nope, nothing. I was going to make some eggs or something, you hungry?"

"Hmm, not really, but that coffee smells pretty good." She walked over to the coffee pot and poured herself a glass. She went to the couch and sat next to Dean.

"I wonder what the world is going to be like if this does happen?" Dean began, almost talking to himself. "I mean, we've seen what can happen when normal life is interrupted. Right now everything is going pretty well, but if there were some virus out there, who knows what will happen." He looked into his wife's eyes, half hoping that she shared his fear.

"Well, we just have to wait and see. We've prepared the best we could, and if something happens, I think we'll be alright."

She could always comfort him, and she had. "Thanks." He said and kissed her softly. They continued to watch TV for a while longer, and Dean went to take a shower. If anything did happen, and the power were to shut off, they wouldn't have a hot shower, so Dean enjoyed ever second of it. After almost an hour, his fingers pruned in protest, he decided to end the shower. He got dressed and went back out into the living room. His wife was busy reading a book, so he took this time to make lunch. Wanting to use as much of the food that would go back if the power went out, he made grilled chicken salad. This was his wife's favorite, so he knew it would be a hit. They both enjoyed their lunch, and finished it off with a bowl of ice cream. With their stomachs full, they returned to the couch to watch the news.

At five that afternoon, there was still nothing to report. Dean was beginning to feel a bit disappointed. It wasn't that he wanted the world to end, but he had spent a lot of time and money preparing for it. The supplies they had spent the weekend getting now just sat there reminding him of his false prediction. But worse, his wife. He knew that she didn't fully believe him, but she went along with it. If nothing happened, what would she think? Would she think he had cracked? Zombies?

Dinner came and went, he cooked some pork chops, and they ate in silence. Dean not speaking because he was simply too embarrassed. Sara not saying a word because she was afraid of making him feel embarrassed. After dinner, Dean cleaned the dishes while Sara got everything ready for work tomorrow. They went to bed, ready to put this behind them. Just before he fell asleep, Dean whispered to his sleeping wife. "I'm sorry."

She was already asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Morning came quickly. Dean still embarrassed by his gaffe, was afraid to make eye contact with his wife as they got ready to go to work. As she was getting ready to leave, his wife approached. "Hey, I'm heading out." She said. "Why don't we rent a movie tonight and order a pizza. My treat!" She winked.

Accepting the pardon she was offering, he kissed her, and agreed. He watched her walk outside, and admired the view. She was in great shape, and very attractive. He finished getting dressed, grabbed his wallet, keys, and sidearm, then headed out the door. He got into his car, put his pistol in the glove box, and headed to work. It was just under an hour, and it took him through some bad parts of town. He had the option of taking the highway, but traffic was always hit or miss, and it really didn't shave much time off this trip if traffic weren't bad.

He passed his office, and pulled in to the office next to his. The board of directors had decided to ban firearms on their property, thinking this would keep the employees safe. Dean laughed at the thought that their "policy" would keep bad people from bringing guns into the building. He parked his car, locked his glove box, and went into the office. He was a little early, and decided to stop by Ron's desk on the third floor to see if he was in. Dean wanted an explanation. He got in the elevator, and was greeted by Sharon, the V P's secretary. She was very beautiful, one of the reasons the VP chose her. Her long blond hair was pulled back, giving him a nice view of her face. And a pretty face it was. She could have easily been a model. She certainly had the body for it, and she wasn't afraid to show it off. Today, her tight blouse was matched with an equally tight skirt. They exchanged pleasantries, Dean pushed the button for the third floor. Too soon for Deans taste, the elevator arrived at his stop, and he exited after saying goodbye.

He walked over to the communications department and noticed that Ron wasn't in. He saw Carlos, and asked if Ron was going to be in today.  
"No, he called in Monday and said his wifes mother died. He's going to be out the whole week. Anything I can help you with? Carlos replied.

"Oh, no thanks man. I'll talk to him next week. Bye" And Dean walked away.

The day went by slowly. Mostly because Dean was dreading having to face his wife again. She was being pretty good about the whole thing, but no one liked to look like a fool in front of their family or friends. By three o'clock, he had caught up with his work, and returned the few phone calls he had to. With a little spare time, he decided to call his wife.

"Hello?" Her voice was as beautiful as usual.

"Hey baby, how was your day?

"Fine, apparently the kids were pretty wild yesterday, and gave the sub a fit. So today was not a good day for them."

Dean snickered, as nice as Sara was, he knew that being on her bad side was not a good thing. "Sorry to hear that. Are you going to be leaving soon?"

"Yeah, I'm actually walking out to my car now. What time will you be home?"

"Well, I am going to try to leave in about an hour. But I'll call you before I do. I love you."

"I love you too, bye." She replied.

Dean hung up, and continued to work. A little over an hour later, he called his wife and told her that he would be leaving work. She asked that he rent a movie on his way and he agreed. He left the office, and went off to the elevator. Being on the eighth floor of a nine floor building meant there was almost always a wait. After about two minutes, the elevator doors opened, and to Dean's surprise Sharon was standing in the elevator. She looked up, smiled warmly, and Dean entered. After a few seconds, the doors closed, and they began to descend. Over the noise of the elevator, Dean thought he heard someone scream, but pushed it off in his mind. The elevator stopped on the fourth floor, and when the doors opened, Pat, the office busy body appeared. Dean and Pat did not get along. In fact, Pat was one of the few people that Dean simply couldn't stand. She was always complaining about something or someone, and Dean had been her target once or twice. Pat gave Dean a dirty look, and then glared at Sharon with the same hatred in her eyes that she carried for Dean. This was noticed by Sharon, who rolled her eyes, ending with them meeting Deans. They both snickered, but Sharon wasn't quite as good at disguising it, and it was heard by Pat. She whirled around to confront Sharon. She glared into her eyes, and just as she was about to open her mouth, a womans scream pierced the air. Everyone froze, trying to figure out what to make of it. After a few seconds, Pat shrugged it off, and was going to continue her tirade when the doors opened and revealed a hell no one could have imagined. A group of ten people surrounded the elevator doors, and grabbed Pat, who still had her back to the opening. They dragged her out into the lobby, and began to tear at her flesh. Dean instantly knew what he was looking at. Ron had been right all along, only his calculations were a day off. Pat screamed at the zombies bit her arms, legs and face. She kicked and struggled, but it was no use. All ten zombies were biting and clawing at her. Sharon began screaming at the sight, and within a few seconds, a few looked up and noticed the two still in the elevator. They instantly jumped up and tried to get to Dean and Sharon just as the doors were starting to close. Dean knew they would be able to grab the door before it shut, so he stepped up and kicked the lead zombie backward, bringing his foot back just as the doors closed.

Wanting to get as far away as possible, he hit the ninth floor. Realizing that Sharon was still screaming, Dean tried to calm her. "Sharon, stop!" She continued screaming. "Sharon! Quit making noise!" This time he lightly slapped her, getting her attention.

"What the hell is happening? Why did they attack her?" Sharon started crying.

"Look, now is not the time to freak out. Is there anyone else on the ninth floor?" If there were, Dean knew that there wouldn't be many. The top floor was reserved for the executives, and had the board room and other meeting rooms. Dean thought it was a lot of wasted space.

"No, they are all at a meeting downtown, and the other assistant called in sick today." Sharon began to get herself together.  
Once they got to their floor, Dean peaked out to make sure the area was clear, and had Sharon exit. He pulled the emergency stop on the elevator to stop anyone from coming up. He then quickly made his way to the stairs, and tried to find a way to block off the door. He found a heavy couch nearby, and started pushing it toward the door. Sharon watched as he struggled, wondering what he was doing. After moving it about five feet, he stopped, looked up, and asked for some help. He moved over, and she helped push the couch up to the door. He then told her to grab anything remotely heavy, and put it on the couch to help weigh it down more. He explained that he was going to make sure it was safe on the rest of the floor. He started with the VP's office, then moved into the conference rooms. Finally, he checked the Presidents office. He opened the door and peaked in. Empty. He was about to return to the lobby when something caught his eye. He walked up to the window in disbelief. About 25 miles away, he could see downtown... on fire.

He stared out, shocked. He'd seen videos of fires on TV, he'd seen pictures of fires out of control, but actually seeing it in person, to an area that he had known, was almost unbelievable. The sky was already beginning to turn dark as the sun set, but downtown now had an ominous glow. After another minute of watching, he left the office and went back to meet Sharon.

She was sitting at the base of the couch, sobbing quietly. She was Dean and wiped the tears away and stood up. Dean appreciated the attempt to be strong. He looked at the couch and saw that she had moved quite a bit of stuff in front of the door and on top of the couch. Satisfied that it would keep anyone or anything out, he sat down and brought out his cell phone. Opening it up, he was amazed to see he had five missed calls. How could he have not felt it vibrate in his pocket? All of the calls had been from his wife. He checked the ringer, and cursed himself, realizing that he turned it off instead of putting it on vibrate. He tried to call his wife back, but was told that all circuits were busy. He looked up and saw Sharon follow his lead. After a few more attempts, he was finally connected.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, hey babe, is everything ok there?"

"Yeah, nothing has really happened here. Just heard a few sirens go down the main road, but nothing else." She sounded relieved to hear he was ok. "Where are you? You have to come home!"

"Well, right now, I'm stuck on the top floor. We blocked off the stairs and stopped the elevator. We're going to have to come up with a plan to get out of here."

"Is Ron with you?" She asked.

"No, it's just me and Sharon, she works upstairs. Look, did you get in touch with anyone else?"

"Yeah, my brother is on his way with his girlfriend. But I haven't gotten in touch with your sister yet. I'm calling her next."

"Ok, call her, I'll call Jay. I'll try to call back when we come up with a plan, but if for some reason I can't, I'll try to get home as soon as I can. I love you Sara."

"I love you too."

Dean hung the phone up and looked up at Sharon. She was talking to someone, looking a bit relieved. Not wanting to waste any more time, he called Jay. He and Jay had been friends for as long as he's known Sara. They did just about everything together. After three attempts, the phone started to ring. No answer. He decided to leave a voicemail. "Jay this is Dean. Get over to my house ASAP. Grab any food and weapons you can, and haul ass to my house. Sara is already there. I'll be there are fast as I can." He hung up and looked at Sharon. "Where you able to get in touch with anyone?" He asked.

"Yeah, my roommate. One of those freaks attacked her. He bit her in the leg, but she kicked him and ran up to the apartment. I told her that I would get there soon." She hesitated, noticing that Dean's expression change when she mentioned her roommate got bit. "So what do we do next? I called the police but couldn't get through."

"Look, this is going to sound crazy, but here goes." He took in a deep breath. "Zombies. That is what those people are. If you are bitten, like your roommate, you will die, and come back as one. As far as I know, there is no cure. On top of that, when I was looking around, I noticed that downtown was on fire. I'm sure other places will be on fire soon too. Now, we need to come up with a plan. Do you have anywhere to go?"

Sharon was trying to take it all in. "I live with my roommate. I don't have any family here though."

"Well, if your roommate is infected, you can't go there. Is there anywhere else?" She shook her head no and started crying. "Well, I have plenty of supplies at my house, and plenty of room. You are welcome to come with me if you want." Looking up, she thanked him, and gave him a hug. "Ok, we've covered the who, what, and where, now we need to figure out how."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Just listen to me ok. You two come over right NOW! There isn't any time to explain, but yes, it is about the riots. I'll tell you everything when you're here, but for once just don't argue with me!" Lisa and her brother Mark had a bit of a reputation for arguing. It was usually in good nature, but every once and a while it would get out of control.

"Fine, we'll be over shortly. We're not too far away anyway. See you soon." Mark hung up and turned to his girlfriend. "Jen, Sarah wants us to go to her house. She said something about there being riots or something. The news hasn't said the riots have spread, but she's freaking out. Anyway, it's been a while since we've been over, so let's just go ok?

"Sure, I guess." Mark and Jen had been dating for just under two years. It was pretty serious, but Mark wasn't quite ready to pop the question. Mark, like his sister, was skinny. However, he was average height. At 5'10", his 170lbs body was trim. Dean was always envious that their family was able to eat whatever they wanted, do little exercise, and still be able to maintain their weight. Jen was also 5'10", and was is good shape. She wasn't thin, and she wasn't fat. She looked as though she played softball. "Can we stop off at the store and get something to drink though?"

"I'm not one to refuse a request with a beautiful blonde." Mark snickered.

Jen twirled her finger through her long blonde hair and sarcastically replied, "Gee, thanks mister" in her best southern drawl.

They pulled the car into the parking lot of first gas station they came to. Mark got out of the drivers seat, and Jen followed. Mark, always the gentleman, opened the door for Jen, followed by an older lady that, since she walked from behind the store, Mark determined must live in the neighborhood back there. He met Jen by the coolers, and picked up a six pack of beer, and waited for Jen to pick out whatever flavor of wine cooler she wanted.

As Mark waited, the sound of screeching tires followed by the crunch of metal was heard outside. They both looked out just in time to see the aftermath. Right outside of the exit for the gas station, a pickup was t-boned by a mini van. The mini van driver, not wearing the seatbelt, was thrown from the vehicle. The passenger was thrashing about in the seat, swinging their arms wildly. With his EMS training kicking in, Mark ran outside to offer assistance. He first checked the man that went through the windshield. Laying face down in a pool of blood, Mark felt for a pulse, but knew there was little chance anyone could have survived that. He passed the pickup, and asked the driver if he was ok. A middle aged man with slightly graying hair shook his head in confirmation. Mark then looked up to see a man trying to help the passenger of the van. As he was standing up, Mark saw the passenger grab the arm of the good Samaritan, and bite down, taking his thumb clean off. The man howled in pain and pulled his hand back, falling to the ground. The woman in the passengers seat continued to flail her arms toward the window, trying to escape the seat belt. Mark ran to help the nine fingered man, pulling his cell phone out to call the police. However, he was unable to get through, receiving a message that all lines were busy. He put the phone down, and instructed the man to apply pressure to the wound. A small crowd was beginning to gather, and he noticed that some of them were on the phones. Looking around, he asked if anyone was able to call the police. No one could get through. What in the hell is going on, Mark thought. He looked back into the store and saw Jen staring at the scene, eyes as wide as saucers. Being a medic, he had seen plenty of accidents and dead bodies, but those that haven't aren't used to such tragedy.

Marks hand was on the bleeding mans shoulder, trying to hold him still. As he was looking at his girlfriend, the man tried to sit up. Mark pushed him back down, and in his most authoritative voice, told the man not to move without looking down. The man tried to sit up again, and again Mark pushed back down. "Listen, help is on..." Mark was cut short as he looked down just in time to see the injured man snap his teeth at his arm. Mark was barely able to pull his hand away before he was bitten. However, the jerking of his arm made him lose his balance, and he fell backwards. The man was on him almost instantly. The small crowd around him began to scream, but all were paralyzed, not willing or able to get this man off of Mark. The man had Mark pinned down to the cement, his teeth snapping at a chance to bite into his flesh. Mark put his right hand on the mans throat, and with his left hand, he pushed the man to the right, forcing the two to switch positions. With Mark on top, he used his weight to keep the mans head pinned down, and quickly got up, releasing him at the last second. He got to his feet, and stepped away, not turning his back to the man. A few people inched closer to the fallen man, trying to help. Mark tried to get them to back up, but they didn't listen. Within a few heartbeats, this wild maniac was on the first person he came to. The poor woman was tackled to the ground, and was literally ripped to shreds. People began to run and scream. Thinking that was a good idea, Mark ran toward the gas station, and yelled to Jen to get into the car.

She didn't need him to tell her twice. She was inside with the door shut before he even reached the car. He quickly got in, started the car, and reversed out of their parking spot. As they were exiting the gas station, they looked back at the accident. Now, instead of one man attacking the woman, the woman and the man were both attacking third person. Jen gasped when she saw the woman take a chunk of flesh out of the screaming bystander.  
Not wanting to waste any more time, Mark floored it, trying to get away as quickly as possible.  
"What the hell is happening?" Mark yelled, knowing neither had the answer. He turned the vehicle down the street and entered the neighborhood behind the gas station. No one was outside. The street looked like a ghost town. A tumble weed could have crossed the street in front of them, and neither would have been shocked. Schools were out, children should be out playing. The sky was clear, and the sun was just beginning to set. There was still a good hour of daylight ahead. The pressed on, hoping that this street ran parallel to the small highway that would lead them toward Sara's house.

Her office phone was always ringing. So it was not shocking, when at three minutes to close, yet another call came through. Contemplating letting it go to voice mail, she decided to play nice, and take the last call of the day.

"Amber son Health Care, this is Missy, how may I help you?" She was tall for a woman. Her mom, dad and brother were all tall. And like the rest of them, she was big boned. She wasn't fat, but she was never going to be supermodel skinny. Like the rest of her family, she had brown hair, which she wore at shoulder length.

"Missy, this is Sara!"

"Hey Sara, how are you? You sound funny."

"Listen, there is something going on, some kind of bio attack and riots. You need to come over to my house right away. Dean is going to be here soon, and my brother is on his way too."

Missy was unconvinced. She hadn't heard of any terrorist attacks, and she certainly hadn't heard of any riots. "What are you talking about? Riots? Biro attack?"

"Haven't you been watching the news? Turn on the radio or something. It's all over the city. Especially downtown. Now, just do what I say and come here, ok?" Sara pleaded.

"Downtown?" Missy's office was just on the outskirts of downtown. She was a stones throw from the highway that encircled the center of the city. "Look, I'm not sure what is going on, but I'm tired, and I'm going home. I'll talk to you guys later." With that, she hung up, grabbed her coat, and left the office, ignoring her phone, refusing to take the call. She hated phones. That's what she did all day, talk on the phone. She hated them so much, she refused to bow down to the standard and use a cell phone. She walked into the hallway, and noticed a buzz in the air. Some kind of excitement that she couldn't place. She looked around and noticed a few coworkers standing in front of a tv eyes wide, mouths open. Curiosity outweighed her eagerness to get home, and she walked over to see the screen. Her conversation with her sister in law was hardly a warning for what the screen displayed. Men and women chasing each other in the streets, blood everywhere. "What's happening? Why... where?"

Her supervisor stepped up. "Ok, everyone in the conference room now! Hurry up people. Let's go"

Missy was one of the first to arrive. She didn't sit down. She didn't even want to be in there. She wanted to go home. Suddenly, remembering the phone call with Sara, she wanted to be there. It was a few miles closer than her house, and she lived alone. After about twenty people gathered into the conference room, Justin, the supervisor spoke up again. "Ok, listen, people are being attacked all over the city, and according to CNN, it's all over the world. Reports are that downtown is a mess. The roads are pretty much all blocked off, as are the highways."

"Well what the hell is happening?" David Marshall interrupted.

Justin continued. "Right now, no one really knows. Th e news said that it seems to be some sort of virus. They have noticed that most people that have it try to... " He paused. "They try to eat other people." A collective gasp rolled through the conference room. Had the event not been so serious, it would have been comical. "Right now, I am going to close the building tomorrow for the sake of safety. Please, go home, and be safe. If things don't go back to normal by Thursday, we will probably be closed again. I'll leave a message on your voice mails either way. Good luck." And with that, he exited the room. Most of the others followed him out right on his heels. Missy wasn't far behind, but as she got to the door, something caught her eye. Janice Hopper was sitting at the long oak desk, staring out into space, not making a move toward the door. The two women weren't the best of friends, but they were friendly toward each other. Moving out of the way so others could exit, Missy called her name.  
"Janice, what are you doing? Let's go!"

Janice did not move, she did not even acknowledge that someone was speaking to her.  
"Janice!" This time Missy got louder.

This seemed to wake Janice out of the trance she was in. She shook her head as if to clear her mind, and stared up at Missy. "My apartment is downtown. How am I going to get home?" She began to sob. By this time, Missy was fully aware that they were alone.

"Look, we need to get out of here, I'm going to my brothers house, you can come with me." Missy didn't want to offer to house this woman in someone else's home, but she certainly couldn't leave her here by herself.

Janice immediately perked up. "Thank you thank you!" Janice got her borderline morbidly obese body into motion, almost running toward the door.

They ran toward the office door, and into the parking lot. It was eerie that fifteen minutes ago, the office was full of people, now there were only two cars left in the parking lot. Janice got into to her car as Missy tried to give her directions just in case they got separated. Janice however was too excited to listen, cutting Missy short. "Let's just go. I'll follow behind." Slightly frusterated, Missy got into her car.

They pulled out into the street, which took a while due to the traffic. Missy was in the lead, and Janice was three cars back. A few times Missy lost sight on Janice, but eventually the traffic thinned out, and they were able to come together with Missy still leading the way. After about ten minutes, the scene on the streets began to change. At first, people just seemed a bit panicked. But slowly the mood changed to fear. Some people could be seen running toward something, anything other than their current location. A few miles further, people were still running, only this time, they were running from something, someone, or somewhere. Mostly, from other people. More people drenched with blood, so much so that their attire seemed almost uniformed. It began to become hard to distinguish one infected from another. As far as Missy was concerned, it didn't matter. She was frightened. More so than she has ever before. A couple of times she had to slam on her brakes to avoid someone that jumped out into the road. Once, that person was almost immediately tackled to the ground by a group of infected. This just made the women drive faster. A few more blocks, and more violence. Missy looked back in the review, realizing it had been a while since she took her eyes off the road, off the chaos. Her heart felt like it stopped. There was nothing behind her. No traffic. No Janice. Nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

It was dark. Darker than it should have been. The smoke from various fires in the city have eclipsed the moon and stars, making it seem like everything outside was covered in black ink. They ate in silence. Sharon had raided the refrigerator in the CEO's office and came up with a half of a sandwich and a yogurt. Dean on the other hand broke into the vending machine, bringing a couple bags of chips into the conference room where Sharon was waiting. They ate in silence, trying to figure out a way to get out of the building. They both believed that the lobby was full of the infected. The floors below them were all questionable. It was unknown if the zombies could have gotten into the stairwell, or if someone was bitten and retreated onto one of the upper floors.

Upon seeing the fires, Sharon commented about what would happen if their building caught fire. Great, Dean thought, another problem to deal with. He wanted to leave the building more than anything, but he wanted to leave on his terms. After some more waiting, more thinking, they devised a plan.

"Ok, are you sure you understand?" Dean asked from in front of the elevator, not trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

Nervous, almost too nervous, Sharon replied "Yeah, we are going to go down to the second floor, and when you say the area is clear, I will follow you down to one of the offices on the west side of the building. We will check out in the parking lot for these things, and if the area is clear, we will go out onto the balcony, and we will jump down."

"Right, and we will sprint to my car. It's in the lot next door." Dean finished.

"I still don't understand why you parked over there."

"You will." Dean replied with a smile.

Dean pulled out his phone, and tried to call his wife. Unsuccessful, he tried again, and again. Finally, giving up hope, decided that he just wanted to get home.

They stepped in and pulled the emergency stop to release the elevator. Dean hit the button for the second floor, and waited. The doors shut, and it felt like an eternity to descend the seven floors. Finally, the bell rang, announcing that they arrived at their destination. The bell had never been so loud, calling anyone and everyone to their location. With extreme caution, Dean peaked out of the elevator. The florescent lights were almost blinding, and he thought about how hard it would be to see once they were outside. How long would it take for their eyes to adjust? He looked around, and found a row of light switches. Using the palm of his hand, he flipped all of them down, leaving only the emergency lights to guide them. He continued to look around the floor, finally satisfied that all was clear, he retrieved Sharon, and they made their way to an office. "Ok, look out the windows, and see if you can count how many are out there." He pressed his forehead against the glass, and began counting.

"There are four on this side, and it looks like three more down at the bottom of the parking lot." Sharon stated.

"Ok, there's five over here, and I have some good news too and some bad news." He looked at Sharon, waiting for her to reply with which one she wanted to hear first. After a few seconds without any word, he continued. "Well, the good news is, we won't have to jump all the way to the ground from here. There's a UPS truck in the loading bay, and we can hop on the roof from the office next door. The bad news, that window doesn't have a balcony, so the only way get out there is to break the glass. We would have to be quick."

Sharon was starting to lose it. Dean could see it. He knew deep down that she wouldn't be able to outrun these things. He wasn't sure she would be able to jump out of the window. They sat once again in silence, Dean thinking of another way out.  
"Got it!" Dean screamed, not realizing how loud he had been. "Stay here, don't move. I'll be back shortly. Sharon began to protest, almost becoming hysterical at the thought of being left alone. "Just trust me. I'll be back shortly. Whatever you do, stay put!" Dean left the office, and quickly walked back through the open elevator doors. He released it, and pressed the third floor button. The doors opened, and Dean carefully exited after making sure the emergency stop was engaged. He crept over to the east side of the building. Looking down at the parking lot. It was dark, especially with the lights glaring on this floor. He looked out of the window, trying to spot the zombies. He could see only two. Not wanting to waste any more time, he stood up, grabbed the closest chair he could find, picked it up, and hurled it toward the window. The chair crashed through with a thunderous boom, no doubt drawing the attention of all within a half mile on the still and silent night.. With the window gone, Dean now had a better view of this side of the parking lot. There were ten zombies that he could see, and all were running toward the exposed office. Looking around some more, Dean saw what he was hoping he would see. Pat, the office busy-body knew no limits to her annoyance. That included her obnoxious car alarm that was always going off. Her car was only about thirty feet from the office. Dean looked around, and found a stapler. He reached back, and let it fly. Plastic crashed off of the cement, missing the car by a few feet. He looked around again, finding another stapler, this time, hitting the car directly on the hood. Instantly, the car screamed, lights flashing. It was a beacon to all. Exactly what he wanted.

Sprinting back to the waiting elevator, he wasted no time getting back to Sharon, who was wide eyed and shaking when he returned.

"What happened?" She cried.

"We got out distraction. Look, I'm going to break this window, and weren't going to run as fast as we can to my car. There shouldn't be anything out there, hopefully they all went to the other side of the building, but be careful and be quiet." Dean lead the way to the other office. He grabbed the chair, and heaved it toward the glass. It bounced off, almost coming back to hit him. As he was reaching down to pick it back up, he heard a door open. "Shh, did you hear that?" Sharon shook her head no. He walked over to the office door and peaked out toward the elevators. He scanned the area, squinting to see in the in the low light environment. He jumped back when a face came into view. About twenty feet away, a bloody face popped out of the doorway of the stairwell. Then another, and another. Five more came bursting through the door, searching for something or someone to eat. Sharon was looking over his shoulder, and let out a low scream of terror at the sight. Instantly, the dead turned toward the office. Dean quietly closed the door, but it was too late. They were spotted.

Dean picked the chair up again, and threw it against the glass with all his might, shattering it into a million pieces. Wasting no time, he jumped out onto the top of the UPS truck, and looked back at Sharon, putting his hands out to offer her some help. Banging on the office door turned her attention away from Dean. The door was shaking violently, slowly being torn from the frame. She looked back at the open window, and heard a crash behind her. "JUMP! NOW!" Dean screamed. The growling and banging persisted and the door gave. Instantly, a flood of bloody dead poured into the room. They reached out to Sharon, who jumped out of the window seconds before being dragged back in. A few of the zombies tried to jump after them, but failed to make it to the truck. Their breaking bones could be heard bouncing off of the cement. The duo ran down the front of the truck, and stepped down. Dean looked around, and what he saw was a bit unsettling. Around the front of the building three of the zombies stumbled out. If they didn't get to the car soon, the zombies would be on them within a few seconds. Dean broke into a sprint toward his car, noticing more zombies coming out of the building next to his office. The same building that he had parked at. They were coming at them from the front and back. This isn't good Dean thought.

As he was running, he reached into his pants and grabbed his keys, using the keyless entry to unlock the doors. He looked back to check on the progress of the dead, and to make sure Sharon was right behind him. The dead were not gaining on them, but they hadn't lost them either. But Sharon was falling behind. How the hell could she be twenty feet behind me, Dean thought. Then, realizing she was in heals yelled for her to kick her shoes off. She complied, and was able to hold her own, actually gaining ground on Dean.

He reached the car first, and sat down into the drivers seat, leaning over and retrieving his pistol from the glove box. Looking up, it was too late. A lone zombie had reached his car, lurching at the open drivers door and pinning Dean's leg between the door and the car. Dean screamed out in pain, leveled the pistol, and hit the zombie in the chest. It stumbled backwards, losing balance, and hit its head on the curb. Keeping the pistol trained on the fallen attacker, Dean closed the door, and started the car. He didn't even notice that Sharon was now in the car, not until she touched his arm, breaking his stare with the body. He put the car in gear, and took off out of the parking lot, not caring to stop at the stop sign before entering the road.

It was eerie, the road being void of other drivers. There were plenty of obstacles though. Cars were left in the middle of the road, bodies scattered the way, or what was left of the bodies. A few times, a zombie gave chase, but they were no where near as fast as the car, even with the debris in the way. Dean still hadn't decided which way he was going to go to get home. He had to decide quickly though. The intersection that would take him to either path was coming up. If he went right, it would take him through the low income housing. To the left, he could get on the highway. Both had their advantages and disadvantages. Dean thought these over in his mind, trying to choose the best path, the safest path.

If he went right, the low income housing would be dangerous, probably more dangerous, he reasoned. This wasn't a place he like to drive at night BEFORE he had to worry about zombies. But now, who knows what it would be like. One advantage is that if for some reason they had to abandon the car, there were plenty of buildings to seek shelter, and it would be a much shorter walk to his house.

If he chose to go left, the highway would present it's own troubles. The traffic was always bad. So the chances of cars being stranded, making their escape by car impossible was high. The result would be them walking. The good news is that there wouldn't be as many people there as opposed to the housing area, but the bad news is that it was much farther to walk.

He looked at Sharon, trying to see how she was holding up. Could she walk if needed? Would she be able to keep a cool head? He had to test the waters. "You ok?"  
She didn't return the glance. Instead, she nodded, keeping her eyes to the front.

Not feeling satisfied, but not wanting to push her, he returned his gaze to the road. Only a few more blocks until he had to choose. He hoped that he made the right decision. He wanted nothing more than to get home to his wife. In what seemed like mere seconds, it was time to choose. Left or right.

Sara paced in the living room, the blinds pulled down, covering ever square inch of the windows. It had been hours since she had talked to anyone. After she hung up with her sister in law Missy, the phones stopped working. She couldn't call out to anyone. She had tried to get online, but that too was out. The TV was working, but the talking heads of the media had nothing new to report. The radio was the same way. Not long after hanging up, the shooting began. At first, it was far away. Then it was a little closer. Then it was on her street. She looked out of the windows to see her neighbors being killed. Their children left in car seats, soon to be attacked themselves. She had vomited a few times, and decided to arm herself and keep a low profile. Her mind was racing. What if no one showed up? What if they were killed? What happened to Dean?

Lights! Car lights shot through the blinds, making the dark interior of the house glow like daytime. She ran to the window, hoping, praying it was Dean. Not worrying about remaining hidden, she pushed the blinds to the side, trying to see the source. A van, a big black van, missing one headlight, the other pointed directly the window. Two people stepped out, Sara unable to make out any details but one looked to be carrying a gun. She had never seen this van before, she had no idea who this was. She gripped her pistol tighter. The figures ran toward the front door as the van lights shut off. Sara was temporarily blinded by the headlights, and by the time her eyes adjusted, they were banging on the front door.


	5. Chapter 5

The intersection came up quickly, and Dean slowed the car down. He looked both ways, still undetermined. Looting could be seen further down the road. Stupid punks, Dean thought. He knew that it was a matter of time before their greed got the best of them and they were run down while stealing a flat screen TV.  
He glanced at Sharon. He was a little worried, she hadn't said a word since they got in the car. He had so much on his mind, he didn't need to worry about her right now. He looked around again, making sure that no one or nothing was coming near the car, then returned his eyes to her. As if she could sense him looking at her, she took her eyes off the chaos ahead, and met his stare. Feeling obligated to speak, he gave her a quick rundown of their options. She listened, nodding occasionally.

"So, what do you think?" He hoped that having her help in the decision making would get her out of her trance.

"Well, I don't have any shoes on, so I'd rather not walk if I don't have to." She said sheepishly. She hated to have that be the reason they went a certain way. If something went wrong, she didn't want it to fall back on her as the reason why.

Dean hadn't even thought about the fact that she had to kick off her heals in order to keep up with him. Well, he thought, the best bet would be to go right, and hope and pray they didn't have to stop the car, hope and pray they weren't attacked, hope and pray that they made it home safely. With that, he made the right turn.

This area of town was pretty run down. It was a place that Dean would normally not drive through at dark. But given their current situation, he didn't have a choice. The speed limit was 35, but with everything that littered the road, he couldn't get above 25 safely. They passed bodies, some alive some dead. Actually, Dean thought, they were all probably dead. Whether they knew it or not. They passed legless corpses dragging their bodies across yards. They were chased. A lot. At one point, a group of ten zombies were running behind the car, reaching out with their arms willing the car full of dinner closer.

But they drove on, remarkably uneventful for the first five miles. Just as their hopes were rising, fate seemed to smack them across the face.

First, the amount of zombies increased. Then the debris in the road increased. Finally, the road was blocked. They could see it ahead. A barrier, a blockade of cars mangled together as if they belonged. One hundred yards ahead. Seventy five. Fifty. "What are we going to do?" Sharon cried.

Dean looked in the rear view to get an idea of the situation. There were too many to count, but he was thankful that they were not very close. Knowing that they had to think quickly. He made up his mind. Twenty five yards. "Get ready to run into the old department store on the right." he yelled as he grabbed his pistol and spare magazine.

Sharon looked over to the store. As far as she could see, the area was clear. That is until she looked back. The low speed of the car had allowed the zombies to keep an eye on them. They never had a chance to lose the mass of dead that followed. Terrified, she waited for Dean to stop the car. Just before they reached the blockade, Dean stopped the vehicle near a small gap in the accident. As if they were one, they opened the doors simultaneously. Dean was pulled back into the car, cursing for forgetting to remove his seatbelt. He prayed the lost seconds wouldn't mean his life. He jumped out and, without closing his door, sprinted toward the store. It was just around the corner of the intersection, and he hoped that they could make it inside before the zombies rounded it, making it possible for them to hide in there for a while. He looked at his destination, seeing Sharon almost there. He stole a glance back, hopeful that he would have enough time to make it there. He ran harder, his lungs burned. His legs felt dead. Like rubber. His ears caught the sound of movement. A large group of dead shuffling and moaning behind them. They weren't quiet.

This only made them run harder. They reached the store, and they both said a prayer of thanks that it was unlocked. It was however, dark. The power on this street was off. Again Dean cursed himself, this time for not remembering his flashlight. He felt around the door, finding the lock and twisting it until he heard it click into place.

They backed away from the door, blending into the darkness. Their eyes never left the street. The crowd came closer. Turned the corner of the intersection, looking for it's prey. When nothing was visible, they crowd broke up. They were still searching, but not as a group as before. A few came close to the store, and this made the two survivors retreat deeper into the store, deeper into the darkness.

The alarm was astoundingly loud. It had to be because he was a heavy sleeper. Jay woke up, turned off the alarm, and layed back down. Third shift was hard on him, but the pay was good. Waking up at midnight took some getting used to though. He kicked the blankets off, and stumbled into the bathroom. He had an hour until he had to be to work, and he planned to use the entire sixty minutes to fully wake up.

He took his shower, dressed, and went into the kitchen. There was hardly anything to eat. Being single and living alone, there wasn't much reason to keep the shelves fully stocked. Jay searched for a few minutes, until he finally found a pack of pop tarts. He jumped as his phone let out an audible cry to let him know he had a message. After taking a big bite of the pop tart, he walked over to his phone and called his voice mail.

_Jay this is Dean. Get over to my house ASAP. Grab any food and weapons you can, and haul ass to my house. Sara is already there. I'll be there are fast as I can. _

"What he hell was that about?" Jay whispered as he tried to call Dean back. Five times he tried, and each time was told that all circuits were busy. He took another bite of his breakfast, walked over to the tv. and turned it on. An infomercial on hair remover greeted him, and he quickly changed the channel to a local news station. His knees buckled, and he fell backward into the chair. He felt his body shake as he watched the screen. Bodies littered the city. His city. People were running, fleeing. Others were chasing, or in some cases, eating. It took longer than he realized it, but he was finally able to drag himself away from the TV, and start to pack a bag. He grabbed a few pairs of clothes and some personal hygiene items, and threw then in the bag. Then he grabbed his gun. He only had one, but he loved it, and he was a pretty good shot. He grabbed the pistol, spare magazines, and the box of ammo. He put the ammo in his bag, the magazines in his pocket, and the pistol was secured to the holster on his hip. He looked around again, double checking to make sure that he hadn't forgotten anything. Satisfied, he grabbed his keys, put on the backpack, and headed out of his apartment.

He lived pretty close to Dean, but given what he had seen on the news, it wasn't close enough.

He jumped when he heard it. It sounded like fireworks, but he knew what it was. Yesterday, he knew it would have been kids playing with Fourth of July leftovers, but from what he saw on the news, that wasn't the case today. He jumped into his car, and opened the garage door. Jay said a silent prayer that his modest driveway was clear. He pulled out onto the street, and scanned the area. The touch of fear ran up his spine, he knew something was different. Something evil was out. With a heavy foot, he pressed down farther on the gas pedal. It didn't take long for him to stare death in the face. Just around the corner he spotted the first dead. It was stumbling around, missing half of it's arm. The head glowed red from the moonlight, blood reflecting off it's hair. Jay didn't know if it were the sound of the car of the headlights, but something set the infected off. With a hard limp, he sprinted toward the oncoming vehicle. Jay got an instant adrenaline dump and was overtaken by tunnel vision. This prevented him from seeing the two figures that lept out in front of the moving car. A thundering crash was heard from the undercarriage of the car, bones being introduced to metal. Flopping of the tire soon followed. Jays lungs expelled all of the air when he realized his tire was flat. He pushed on anyway, the flopping becoming louder, the steering becoming sloppy. He drove past the remaining zombie, and made it another two blocks before the car stopped. The rubber was almost completely gone, and his old sedan couldn't handle it anymore. He stepped out, grabbed his backpack, secured his pistol, and began to jog toward Dean's house.


End file.
